Chaos
by Stickeh
Summary: A noble reject has difficulty finding a path in the Gotei Thirteen after having been transferred from three divisions already. Will the fourth time be a charm, or will the notorious Eleventh Division prove to be one transfer too far?
1. Prologue

A/N: First Bleachfic. Be kind. XD

Disclaimer: I own nothing, alas.

**Prologue**

"Are you kidding me? Since when did we start getting everybody's cast-offs?"

Madarame Ikkaku walked down one of the Eleventh Division corridors, his arms folded inside his Shihakushou, bare feet tapping lightly against the wooden floor. Yumichika walked beside him, instinctively picking his way over dirty laundry, bloody towels and the usual measure of debris that their division normally left in their wake. He was reading a letter, which made his execution of the assault course all the more impressive.

"We have always received everybody's cast-offs," he remarked lightly, rolling his eyes in what he knew to be a beautiful fashion. "It says that she has been through three divisions already, and come up against trouble in each one. Including the Fourth."

"Ehhh?!" Ikkaku looked disgusted. "Even those bandage-waving pansies wouldn't take her?"

"Her kidou is weak, practically non-existent, and her shunpou is rudimentary at best," Yumichika flipped the letter over to read the conclusion. "Ukitake Taichou seems to think that sending her here might do her good."

Ikkaku sneered.

"The old man's finally lost it. And she didn't object to being slung in here with the worst of Seireitei's thugs?"

"Speak for yourself."

"She's nuts," the third seat concluded with a shake of his head. At that, Yumichika smiled and folded the letter.

"She should fit in quite nicely, then."

"Che." Ikkaku reached over and took the letter from his friend without invitation, unfolding it roughly and squinting at the elegant script of Ukitake Taichou. Amongst the sentences of affectionate niceties, as per the taichou's usual style, he spotted a name. "Okajima... huh. Why does that name ring a bell?"

"Has Tetsu-san hit you in the head again? You really shouldn't mix sake with sparring, you're losing brain cells," Yumichika shook his head. "The Okajimas are one of the four noble houses, in the same league as the Kuchikis." Ikkaku stared at him, his face looking slightly pained, as if having trouble calculating all the factors.

"So... we have an _aristocratic_ woman joining our division? She really is bat-shit crazy. I give her a week."

"Five days."

"You're on."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Breathing heavily after the initial shock and bad winding, Kaede stared up at the dojo's ceiling with a distinct look of resigned acceptance; the look of one who knew the limit of her skill and fully expected that to happen, if she was honest with herself. Ikkaku was a master swordsman; anyone could see that, but the fact that he had forced her off her feet without even using his bokken was a source of fresh humiliation. He was leaning one arm on his up-ended wooden blade, staring down at her with a look that was hard to place. It was either disgust, pity or a mix of both. Kaede merely felt like sinking into the floor and staying down there.

"Wanna know why that happened?" 'Because I'm useless?' was the answer she desired to give, but she bit her tongue. That is until Ikkaku flicked his sword forward and smacked her in the leg with it, eliciting a yelp. "Up."

This was a far cry from the academy, where everyone was scared to touch her in case they incurred the wrath of the Okajima clan. Ikkaku was a hard teacher, not shy of giving her the odd whack, regardless of whether she was a woman, nobility or anything. It was a bizarre feeling, being treated just the same as anyone else. Yumichika sat quietly in the corner of the dojo, sipping a cup of steaming tea, and quite ready to leap out of the way if a body went flying in his direction. He watched with the patient nonchalance of someone who had seen this time and time again.

"Does he have to be here?" Kaede asked cautiously, looking his way as she climbed to her feet. An audience was something not appreciated. Her answer was the third seat's bokken impacting with the side of her head. "Ow!"

"He's not your problem, I'm your problem," Ikkaku stepped back and pointed the blade at her. "Focus."

Releasing a sigh, Kaede moved a foot back to give herself balance, and raised her bokken in the correct position. This was robotic, tense, and not what Ikkaku wanted at all. With a noise of frustration, he roughly prodded her shoulder with his bokken, unsurprised when she barely budged, her muscles in tight knots.

"See, that's why you fell on your ass. If you're stiff as a board, you're gonna fall over like one. Loosen up!" He walked towards her, knocking her raised bokken out of the way with ease. "Try and floor me."

Kaede hesitated, blinking at him dumbly for a moment. That was not an invitation that she had expected. He came to a stop in front of her, a mere two feet away, and waited.

"Push me. Come on."

Biting her lip, she reached out, fearing some kind of trick, and gave his shoulder a firm shove. Or, it would have been a firm shove if he hadn't twisted with her effort and made the impact glance off. She almost stumbled herself, and that wasn't right. She tried again and again, a different spot every time, getting more vicious and faster with her growing agitation, but each time she barely touched him, the fluidity of his movements making him almost untouchable. He twisted, stepped and swerved, slowly moving backwards, a smug smirk on his sharp features. With the last snarling strike, he grabbed her arm, twisted her and caught her neck in the crook of his elbow in an effective strangle hold. The hold wasn't painful, but firm with a silent promise.

"Six years, and all they taught you was how to fight like a pansy girl?" His front was to her back, his voice by her ear. "Shit, the standards really are slipping. We've had some losers here in our time, but..."

"If you don't like me," she said, teeth almost bared, "then send me on. Everyone else has. With any luck, I'll run out of divisions and get to go home."

This was a revelation for Ikkaku, though his surprise didn't cause him to lose his grip on her neck. He stared at the back of her head for a moment, blinking. "Well, that's pretty damn ungrateful, don't you think? Do you know how much shit some people go through to get here?"

"I wouldn't say such things in front of Renji, in any case," Yumichika spoke up finally from his spot in the corner, watching with renewed interest.

"I never wanted to be here in the first place," Kaede objected miserably, feeling a wave of guilt at Ikkaku's words. "But I tried. I might be from a noble clan, but nobility doesn't always mean strength. I was thrown in and expected to excel, because my birth was that much higher. The Kuchiki and Shihoin clans came before us, so why shouldn't the Okajima clan do the same?"

Ikkaku finally let go of her, brows knitted. Kaede felt her neck, as if to make sure it was still there and frowned at the floor. In the next moment, she found her head being pushed down, her copper hair ruffled beyond repair.

"Ehh!"

"Che. Idiot." Ikkaku took his hand away from her mussed head and folded his arms over his chest. "Ever tried shaking off the expectations and just doing it because you want to? Your family isn't here, they can't see or judge. You're not a clan heir anymore, you're Eleventh Division, so suck it up!"

Kaede stared at him, holding her head for a long moment, and thought about his words. They made sense, but she couldn't just snatch strength from thin air. It was all very well doing something for yourself, but to have the drive to do it after so many setbacks was something else. She opened her mouth to say something in reply to the unexpected pearls of wisdom, but another sounded erupted first.

"_Gruuuu..._" Kaede's cheeks grew pink and she looked down at her belly. Why did it have to choose such a moment? Ikkaku snorted and threw his bokken back on the rack.

"Lunchtime it is, then."

"I'll go call for it," said Yumichika, rising from his place and padding out quietly, but with his usual dose of grace. Kaede set her bokken back in the rack carefully, relieved and at the same time not. There would be no more sparring until later, but lunch afforded a whole new danger: conversation. As she looked up, she saw Ikkaku waiting for her in the doorway, leaning up against the frame, arms folded. His rough ways and Yumichika's comparatively quiet tolerance bizarrely made her feel more welcome than any amount of niceties from other divisions had. Her mouth twitched in a smile and she made her way over, twisting her hair up roughly to keep it out of the way.

"You're gonna have to cut that off," he told her bluntly, pushing away from the door and walking beside her. She blinked at him, eyebrows raised. "Too easy for somebody to grab hold of in a fight." Kaede's eyebrows drew together.

"But... Matsumoto Fukutaichou has long hair..."

"Yeah, but you said it yourself – fukutaichou. She ain't a pushover. You, on the other hand..."

Despite feeling her pride being dented unmercifully, she had to admit that the third seat had a point. Reaching up and tugging at her hair experimentally, she could see how it would pose a problem. Short hair meant one less thing to grab hold of. Her father was going to kill her.

"I will have it cut tomorrow morning," she promised, subconsciously hoping that without the weight of her waist-length hair, she might be able to duck and weave a little faster.

Together they padded out onto the porch to find Yumichika sitting prettily with a picnic-like spread on a small table and a pot of tea at the ready. It took Ikkaku no time at all to notice the profound lack of sake and complain about it loudly, to which Yumichika replied that if he wanted to drink himself stupid at midday, he would have to fetch the alcohol himself. Grunting, Ikkaku sat cross-legged at the table, scowling at the tea pot as if it had insulted his mother. Kaede had to restrain a smile as she knelt gracefully on her cushion and thanked Yumichika when he filled her cup with tea.

"My apologies for not producing something more substantial," he said. "We usually eat large meals all together in the evenings."

"All together?" Kaede was fairly stunned. "The entire division? Zaraki Taichou as well?" No other division she knew of did that. Those of the lower ranks may band together for a meal, but some of the higher ranks considered it beneath their dignity to slum with the talentless masses, and having dinner with your taichou usually meant a promotion. This was quite unprecedented.

"Why not?" Ikkaku arched an eyebrow, teacup halfway to his lips. "It doesn't happen every night, obviously, but you'll learn pretty fast that Eleventh Division is not like the others."

"I think I may have figured that much out already," she said, blowing air on the hot tea and taking a slow sip.

Lunch passed with little conversation. None of them were apt to make idle chatter, and Kaede was too distracted to attempt to be polite. The afternoon was taken up by further training, which resulted in no real progression and a good few bruises. It was approaching dinner time when she was finally acquainted with what would be her room from this point on. Being the only adult female in the division, shared accommodation was out of the question, and upon sliding open the door, it was immediately clear as to what the room had been used for previously.

It was a broom cupboard.

Hastily cleared by heaven knows who, the stains on the floor and the lingering odour of old mop water and floor wax made the purpose of it very clear. In the middle of the room lay her things, a rolled up futon and, on top of it all, her zanpakutou. Sheathed and still, it looked like a normal katana, like the rest did, with a deep purple hilt, but unlike the others there was no energy to it. The zanpakutou of high ranking Shinigami practically hummed, if you listened hard enough, but hers was silent as the grave. Walking into the dingy little room for the first time, she picked up the sword and sighed.

"Fine mess we've landed ourselves in," she said, pulling it out of the sheath a few inches, watching the metal glint in the small shaft of sunlight emanating from a small window high on the far wall. There was no answer, as always. She slid the blade back in with a sharp _shink_ and set it back on her little pile of belongings. The room was not ideal, certainly, but it would serve its purpose; and she at least had the funds to make improvements, like replacing the floor mats and acquiring a piece or two of furniture.

Walking to the window, she reached through and opened the hatch further, letting more fresh air into the room. The view was not an inspiring one: a front row seat at Training Ground Theatre, a stretch of what might once have been grass, but was now nothing but trodden down clay and a few protruding rocks. This division truly went back to basics. Kaede rolled her shoulders and winced a little as the first aches began to set in; Ikkaku expected no mercy and gave none, with wooden swords or real ones. If she was able to walk in the morning, it would be nothing short of a miracle.

Turning away from the window, she stopped short and blinked as a sudden flash of pink appeared in her line of vision and disappeared again in a moment, leaving the young shinigami wondering if she had seen anything at all. She moved to the doorway and looked out into the hall, looking one way and then the other and seeing no trace of anyone. Kaede shook her head and moved back inside, sliding the door shut behind her and folding her arms over her chest.

Now, how does one Feng Shui a broom cupboard?


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for the reviews, guys! I think I got back to you all, they're much appreciated! =D

**Chapter Two**

Having one's hair go from being waist length to being only a few inches long was quite disorienting. It seemed to completely alter the way Kaede held her head, which felt so much lighter now. She had done as she promised and had gotten her hair sheared off, resulting in a vaguely wispy, boyish look. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long while, trying to come to terms with the dramatic change, then decided that she was not going to get used to it for a while and thought it better to search breakfast out instead. She left the expensive salon touching her new hair constantly, walking with a slight limp, courtesy of Madarame Ikkaku. Her overworked muscles and complimentary bruising had seized up overnight and made her walk awkwardly, ever so slightly bent and stiff. Once outside, she set her hands to her back and bent backward slowly, not content until her spine had popped at least twice. There was nothing quite like waking up like a ninety-year-old woman.

Luckily for the limping Shinigami, breakfast was not far away - a restaurant opened its doors less than a few hundred feet down the street. Early as it was, she was sure to beat the rush. The scent of fried fish and steamed rice filled her nose and made her belly make an embarrassing sound. The night before, Kaede had declined the opportunity to have dinner with the entire division - or, as Ikkaku would doubtlessly have put it, "wimped out" – and she was fairly famished. Simultaneously meeting her new taichou, fukutaichou and all her division-mates, seated or otherwise, made her feel decidedly queasy. This feeling was reinforced tenfold after seeing the state of the communal bathhouse. She'd had the feeling that she would have left the place dirtier than when she went in. Instead, she wisely resorted to a sponge bath in her own room. After taking in the sweaty, yeasty stink of her division's bathhouse, the stale scent of her broom cupboard was positively fragrant.

Sitting down in the restaurant proved to be quite difficult, as her stiff muscles practically screamed as she attempted to kneel at the table, causing her to stoop and lean on the table to prevent any accidents. Aware of the stares she was receiving, she winced and bit the bullet, dropping the last few inches abruptly and resisting the urge to whimper like a kicked puppy. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as her thighs throbbed in front of her. She was going to need tea; lots of it.

"Yo!" A firm hand slapped her on the shoulder, making her whole body tense in the effort not to curse. Ikkaku grinned as he swung around to sit opposite her, crossing his legs and picking up a menu. "So, gonna buy your sensei breakfast, or what?" Kaede blinked at him, but he was already perusing the menu.

"... Okay, firstly? Ow." She gave him a look, but his eyes didn't rise from the page. "Secondly, how did you know I was here?"

"You're not very subtle," he said, smirking to himself. "All I had to do was ask if anybody had seen a girl walking like she'd just crawled out of a grave." He put the menu down and finally looked her way. "If you didn't want to eat with us, you could at least have made the effort to be early for practice."

"Practice? Ikkaku-san, I can barely walk!"

"Good thing I ain't asking you to do laps, then."

He smirked and she scowled as a waitress knelt by the table and set out the tea things. She smiled nervously at both of them, and Kaede only just remembered to thank her before she left.

"If you want to skip practice and continue being a useless waste of a closet, that's up to you," he continued, obviously taking no prisoners. "But you're still buying me breakfast, since I put myself out on a limb."

Kaede frowned, the comment stinging more than her legs. She wanted to tell him where he could shove his breakfast, or at least throw something pointy-edged at his head, but she could muster the conviction to do neither. Once again, he was right; she was going to get nowhere with her attitude. Aches and pains were excuses for little princesses wanting to get out of music lessons, and those were clearly not going to wash with the Third Seat. She looked down at her lap, brows drawing together, gnawing on her lip nervously.

Suddenly, a hand impacted with her forehead and made her jerk backwards.

"What the hell is that face for?!" Ikkaku demanded, leaning forward on his knees. "You're just gonna sit there and take that like a fuckin' pansy? The _least_ you could have done was call me a jerk!"

"B-b-but, you're my superior..." There was an audible 'slap' as Ikkaku's palm met abruptly with his face.

"You're missing the point." He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Well, you're kind of giving me mixed signals here," she said slowly, half wondering if his face was all right after that hefty smack. "What do you want from me, exactly?"

"I want you to stop wallowing self pity and grow a damn backbone," he quickly glanced at the menu. "And some grilled mackerel, if they've got any."

She sighed softly and resigned herself to the fact that Ikkaku was going to be a drain on both her funds _and_ her mental health. However, his sitting with her did mean that he hadn't given up on her yet, and that was something. No one had ever put themselves out for her unless bound by duty or a pay packet, and Ikkaku was bound to nothing, nor was Yumichika. Did they see something she didn't? Or did they merely not want to have to clear up the bloody smear she would leave if she was ever put in a serious combat situation? 'Well, ask no questions and receive no lies,' she thought to herself as she raised the teacup to her lips. However, there was one question she was dying to ask as she watched him order food with the waitress. She gave her own order with a smile and watched the girl leave before daring to break the silence existing between the two Shinigami.

"Ikkaku-san."

"Hn?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" It was a stupid, naive question and she knew it. It sounded even worse out loud than it had in her head, but she needed to know the answer.

"Eh? _Nice_?" he stared at her. "You call having ten shades of snot beaten out of you 'nice'?"

"Well, you're actually trying to help me without having anything to gain, from what I can see," she mused aloud, twisting her tea cup around in her fingers. "I just wondered why, that's all."

"Che. Maybe I just like beating on new recruits, ever think of that?"

"True," she acknowledged into her cup, taking a sip and allowing herself a small smile. That may well have been his sole reason, but if there was anything more to it, she was going to be the last to know. "Just try not to break anything today, or I really will have a reason to skip practice."

"Don't _let_ me break anything, and we'll have no problems." Kaede shrugged her shoulders slightly, setting her cup down,

"Yes, Sensei," she half mumbled, then gave a yelp as the front of her shihakushou was grabbed and she was yanked halfway across the table, coming almost nose-to-nose with a frowning Ikkaku.

"What did I say about bein' a fuckin' pansy?!"

Swallowing thickly, Kaede steeled herself and attempted to stare him down, which was not easy when one has been half hauled across a tabletop. She set her mouth in a grim line and narrowed her eyes.

"Do you want to eat your free food, or wear it?"

There was a pregnant pause for a long moment as the two of them stared each other down, but eventually Ikkaku's face split into a wide grin and he shoved Kaede back in her seat. He didn't say anything, doubly so when the food arrived and he spent the next few minutes inhaling the contents of his bowl, but she was happy to sit quietly and enjoy the still moments before the hurricane of practice.

And then it hit her: she was happy. Really, honestly content for the first time in months, and it was only her second day in her new division. Of course, this was all likely to change as soon as she picked up a bokken and had the stuffing knocked out of her again, but still. It was progress.

"Ikkaku-san, I have a question." The response was a guttural grunt around a mouthful of food, so she gave herself leave to continue. "Is there anywhere in our barracks where I can bathe that _isn't_ the communal bathhouse?" Ikkaku made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snigger.

"Scared of showing your lady-parts in front of the boys?" he said, halfway between a smirk and a grin. Kaede felt her face grow hot.

"Well, there is that, but I would also rather not die of the toxic fumes in there, if I can help it."

"Hn. Well, unless you wanna walk miles and pay for the privilege, there's the taichou's bathroom further down the hall," he fixed her with a stare, which was quite hard to take seriously when he had a little fish paste smeared on his lip. "But I never told you that."

"Understood," she said, trying to stop a chuckle and subtly brushing her own lip to indicate his mess. Frowning, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grumbled something under his breath. "Thank you."

* * *

After breakfast, the intensity of practice seemed to increase tenfold, and Kaede had no time to think about aching muscles if she wished to keep her limbs intact or her nose where it was on her face. Even with a wooden sword, she didn't doubt his ability to hack through flesh if he wanted to. Dodging was something she was very quickly becoming adept with; it was really a matter of 'do or go down to Fourth Division and have your jaw reattached'. The result of hours of constant battling was jellified muscles and a strong desire for a bath, especially since they had skipped lunch altogether in favour of learning 'how not to leave openings and fall on your ass like a wimp'.

Kaede had been forewarned of the possible dangers of using Kenpachi's bathroom, not that she really needed telling, and she used the utmost stealth to make it down the hall without being seen. She kept a tight lid on her reiatsu and held her things close to her chest as she slid the door open with her foot and slipped inside. It was a smaller version of the communal bathhouse, and much, much cleaner. The scent on the air was still distinctly male, but it was musk rather than stink, and the fact that there was more than one tub suggested that the higher seated officers also used it. Still, she was the lowest of the low where rank was concerned, and her heart hammered against her chest with the thrill of doing something she wasn't supposed to. She hadn't felt this exhilaration since she had infiltrated Kuchiki Manor and stolen a kimono-full of peaches from their estate as a child.

Still, she had to be quick. The risk of being caught was high, as members of her division started filtering in from various training grounds around the barracks. She undressed so quickly that she may as well have shunpoued out of her clothes, untied her bundle of things and got to work. It was not being caught that worried her so much; it was the thought of being caught naked – by her taichou. That would have made any working relationship distinctly awkward. After rinsing off, she took a leap in the huge tub and lingered there the longest, letting the hot water soothe her muscles. The bruises on her pale skin were starting to show under the fresh red marks, and her mouth turned down in a frown. It was not exactly an attractive look. But she was grateful for her short hair, at least; it took much less time to wash, and gave her a little more time to sit and enjoy the feeling of being clean.

She lingered as long as she thought was safe, and then got out, dried off and put on a fresh uniform. She made sure that she took away everything she brought with her, so there was no evidence of her having been there at all, tied up her bundle and stealthily went back the way she came. Unfortunately, there was no escaping dinner. Ikkaku had told her that she was going to have to eat with them at some point, and it was better to do it now and get over it. She chewed her lip, wondering how she was going to get through an evening with the biggest thugs in Seireitei.

_Whump._

A thick arm suddenly shot out as she rounded a corner, barring her way, and she was met with a small gaggle of Shinigami heading for the baths. Not one of them looked particularly friendly, or particularly bright, for that matter. She stopped and looked up at them, carefully schooling her features into blankness; it was a skill taught to all children of noble birth. The tallest – and thickest – of them stooped over her and grinned.

"So, this is where you've been hiding, eh?"

"I haven't been hiding anywhere," she replied, keeping her voice low and calm. Any sort of inflection in her tone might spark a confrontation.

"Been taking a bath, huh?" her personal road block said, eyeing her still-damp hair. For a moment, she panicked, and then she remembered that they couldn't possibly know _which_ bathhouse she had been in. "Pity, I could have given you a... tour."

Around them, his companions sniggered and nudged one another, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were thinking. Kaede frowned slightly and tried to move around them, but they completely filled the corridor. It did occur to her to turn and run in the other direction, but any sign of weakness would just induce them to give chase and flatten her.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, trying not to hunch her shoulders and shrink, as her instinct was telling her to. It was no good trying to bluff her way through it; they would surely sniff out weakness, so being polite and firm was her best weapon, unless she decided to rub soap in their eyes. Unmoving and smirking, it was clear that they were going to ignore her request, and she felt herself grow very impatient.

"Move!"

The command came, but her lips hadn't moved. The voice was several times deeper, rougher – more a growled bark than anything – and was accompanied by a veritable sea of reiatsu. Kaede felt her chest tighten with the sheer force of it, and her feet were fairly stuck in place as the thugs before her scattered to make way for their taichou. Kaede had never seen him before, not up close, and his physical presence alone was enough to make the usually collected noblewoman gawp like a shocked carp. He merely stared straight back at her, taking the two steps needed to close the gap between them. She would have been staring directly at his chest, had she not been looking up at his face. It felt like being next to a blast furnace with the hatch closed, but she was certain that when he was in the mood for a tussle, that hatch would open and the whole furnace would blow apart.

Inwardly, she knew that staring him in the eyes was both rude and vastly unwise, but to stop herself was impossible. She only managed to blink when his head dropped a couple of inches, bringing it marginally closer to hers, and his upper lip curled slightly.

"Gonna make me repeat myself?"

Kaede ran through options in her head: speak, don't speak, move quickly, duck and cover, run for it... This was like no introduction she had ever experienced before. Scratch that, it was no introduction at all, one wasn't needed; he was Zaraki Kenpachi, and she was the only adult female in the division, their presences spoke for themselves. She swallowed harshly and stuttered.

"N-no, Taichou." She found her feet at last and swiftly stepped aside, bowing her head. "Apologies."

He looked at her a moment longer, let out a dismissive "Che..." and walked on, the bells in his hair tingling lightly as he moved. Poor Kaede stared after him and puffed out a breath, grateful when the reiatsu began to ebb. Her back met the wall and she stayed there for a moment until the spiky-haired behemoth had rounded the corner.

It was then that she noticed a large pair of eyes staring up at her. Looking down, she saw the tiny childish figure of her fukutaichou watching her, like a cat might watch a mouse before pouncing on it. For several moments they stared at one another before Kaede mentally shook herself, pushed away from the wall and bowed to the pink-haired little girl.

"Sir."

Yachiru tilted her head to the side, blinked slowly, then suddenly grinned. It was next to impossible to guess what was going on under that odd-coloured hair.

"You're funny, Fluffy-chan," she said in her high-pitched voice, still grinning, and in a flash she was gone. She was down the corridor and out of sight before Kaede could even straighten from her bow. Kaede's brows drew together as she fully processed her new nickname and, wondering where the 'fluffy' part had come from, gingerly touched her damp hair. In truth she was grateful, it could have been a lot worse, even if she had been gawping at him like an idiot and told she was fluffy by her fukutaichou. She was uninjured, her limbs were intact and the brutes that had blocked her way were long gone.

But she definitely needed a lie down.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Apologies for the comparative shortness. I'm time restricted atm. . Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Three**

"Where's your protégé, Ikkaku? You scared her off?"

Iba Tetsuzaemon caught the sake gourd tossed at his head effortlessly and took a swig, his released zanpakutou leaning up against a tree nearby. Ikkaku made a dismissive noise, Houzukimaru leaning up against his shoulder as he sat cross-legged on the floor.

"No. I pulled some strings and got her out on patrol in Karakura Town for a while; put some of that theory into practice."

"I'm surprised she stuck it out this long," the fukutaichou tossed the gourd back. "Didn't you have a bet with Yumichika over it?"

"Yeah, we both lost. Six weeks and she's still here," Ikkaku pulled the bung from the gourd. "Kid's tougher than I gave her credit for."

"Especially if she's been letting you beat on her for this long." Ikkaku shrugged and lifted the spout to his lips.

"She's improving, but it's weird that Taichou has let her remain with us. He's moved on so many others who weren't up to the task; bigger and tougher guys than Kaede."

"Maybe it's because she's a woman," Iba suggested, earning an incredulous look from his friend. Seeming to consider his statement, he realised how wrong that could have sounded and hurried to correct himself. "No! Not like that. I mean for Yachiru."

"Wanna elaborate on that?"

"Well, maybe Zaraki Taichou realises that a little girl might need a woman's influence around the place." Ikkaku opened his mouth. "No, Yumichika doesn't count. It might not matter so much now, but she's growing and I'm bettin' that there's a ton of stuff that Zaraki Taichou would rather have a woman there to help with."

"Hm. The brat _has_ taken quite a shine to her, though I think that's mostly 'cause Kaede lets her rifle through her stuff on a regular basis and gives up any candy she has on her."

Ikkaku finally took a swig from the gourd, only to find a couple of drops left. "Eh?" he shook the gourd and peered up into it, just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. "You finished it, again? You old drunk!" Iba smirked.

"Your turn to get more," he said, reaching back and getting a grip on the hilt of his zanpakutou, knowing what was to come. It seemed like an age old ritual between the two.

"The hell it is! You get it!"

"Heh. Looks like only a fight can decide – loser gets the sake."

"You're on!"

From a distance, a whirl of dust and thud of reiatsu were the only indications of Ikkaku and Iba had resumed the eternal battle of 'Who Shall Fetch the Sake'.

* * *

_Slurp._ Milkshakes were definitely on the noisy side, so far as drinks went. And whose idea was it to suck it up through a straw? Kaede could not understand the logic of abandoning chopsticks, only to have burger sauce run down her arms. It tasted good, but the mechanics were all wrong, and very messy. On top of everything else, her gigai felt a little tight, to the point where she wanted to tug on the skin to stretch it out a bit. However, that might have looked a little strange while walking down a busy street. Most people already thought she was strange, what with her inability to correctly work out the monetary system and the overly-formal way she chose to talk. It seemed that talking like one of her division would be putting her best foot forward, even if she did feel like a lout while doing it.

Four hours, and no sign of a Hollow. She was grateful for the gigai, or she would have been bored out of her box, sitting on a roof somewhere, unable to do anything. As it was, she had already eaten, wandered around the mall (and made a few purchases here and there) and taken a turn in the amusement arcade. She had also discovered wonderful devices called "vending machines". Her newly acquired backpack was now fairly full of Yachiru Pacifiers, otherwise known as candy. But still, Hollows were the reason she was there to begin with, and Ikkaku would not be best pleased if she returned without a kill under her belt.

Pulling her cell phone out of her pant pocket, she flipped it open and took a look. Nope, nothing. Not even a soul burial was needed. And this was supposed to be the most spiritually rich spot in a hundred mile radius. Flipping the phone shut again, she moved to place it back in her pocket.

_BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP._

A Hollow, and the coordinates for it, flashed up on the screen as she flipped the phone back open. Show time. Fishing a Soul Candy out of her other pocket and popping it in her mouth, she was released from her gigai in a short burst of reiatsu.

"Go hide in the arcade. I'll come and get you when I'm done," she told the gigai, who smiled, bowed politely and ran back towards the mall. It was an odd experience, talking to somebody who looked just like you.

Shaking it off, she set a hand on her zanpakutou and took a leap onto a rooftop to see a clearer path. The Hollow was supposed to be heading towards a school, and from her place up high, she could see the linear walls of the local high school. She set off with great speed, kicking up a little dust as she went, hopping from roof to roof with an agility she hadn't possessed several weeks before. Her heart was pounding, and she began to hear it in her ears as she spotted the outline of the masked creature, moving sluggishly onto the sports field. It was shaped almost like a mutated frog, with a couple more limbs than it should have, and the mask was wide-mouthed and grotesque. Lucky for the students in the school, class was in session.

As Kaede moved closer, she noted something odd about this particular Hollow. The reason for the sluggish movements was that the creature had already been injured. Thick blood-like liquid seeped from open wounds on the back, smearing on the ground for all spiritual eyes to see. It was a big creature, too, easily reaching eye-level with the roof of the main school building. When it roared, the sound was deafening, almost making the ground tremble with the force. It was a surprise that the windows nearby didn't shatter.

Steeling her resolve, she drew her zanpakutou and leapt from the roof, aiming a strike at the back of the neck. Unfortunately, the Hollow was less sluggish than previously thought, as it twisted around and swung a webbed limb at her with far too much accuracy for her liking. It missed, but only by an inch, and stopped her in her tracks, making her drop to the ground.

"_Shinigami..._" The voice was rasping, weak, like it needed to feed to keep going, but the movements were bizarrely quick for an injured Hollow. The top set of arms were like a man's, but the bottom set were bent back like the arms of a mantis, and she was caught off guard when one shot out, intent on either grabbing or skewering her, she wasn't sure which. She barely moved fast enough to evade, resulting in a tear in her shihakushou and a graze on her arm. It wanted to eat her, and it seemed desperate enough to use all its energy to succeed.

There was barely enough time to make a strike of her own; the hits were coming thick and fast, making her duck and weave with all the speed she possessed. When one of the smaller arms struck out, she didn't move fast enough. Hit head on, she flew back into the sports storage shed, smashing through the wall on impact and landing amongst a small sea of soccer balls and tennis rackets. She could barely breathe, the blow had winded her so much, and one of her blurred eyes was seeing red. Wiping at her eye and bringing her hand back, there was the vibrant red evidence of a gash to the head. She could hear the Hollow coming for her, closing in for the kill, and she groped for her blade. She was not going to die on her first patrol, damn it! She'd never live it down.

Feeling dizzy but determined, she found her zanpakutou as a hungry mantis hand shot out to finish the job. One desperate but precise swing saw an end to that creepy-looking appendage and the Hollow reared back, screaming as the severed arm dropped to the floor, twitching. Her ears were ringing, her breath coming thick and fast, but somehow she managed to take the opportunity with both hands and rise to her feet. Her back, front, head... hell, everything hurt, but that was no excuse to wimp out. There was no way she was going to let this fifty-foot bug walk away.

Steeling her grip on her sword hilt, she rushed forward- only to be picked at the post by someone else. The tip of a large blade emerged as the creature was stabbed from behind, stopping inches above Kaede's head, and was effortlessly swept upwards, effectively cutting the creature in two from the waist up. With a strangled, keening roar, the Hollow dissolved before her, leaving nothing by the smell of blood and scorched flesh in the air. As the Hollow drifted away with the wind, she saw who her unneeded saviour had been. Orange hair, Shinigami robes and a sword that seemed too big for anybody to carry – it could only have been one person; he was famous in her division, after all. An honorary member, some said.

Still, he had no business interfering. She had it perfectly under the control!

"'The hell was that?" she blurted out after a moment of frustrated staring. Ichigo blinked, eyebrows raised, and lowered his blade.

"Uh... a 'thank you' would've been nice," he said, brows lowering in a frown. "And you're welcome, by the way."

"I could have handled it," she replied, wiping her forehead and seeing the blood stain her hand. "It probably doesn't look like it," she admitted after a moment, "but I could have. You shouldn't just barge in on other people's fights."

"Tch, whatever," he sheathed the sword on his back and folded his arms. "Should probably have somebody take a look at that," he lifted an arm to point at her bloody head and turned away, heading back the way he came.

Kaede's eye twitched as she sheathed her own blade slowly; angry with him for taking away her first kill and leaving it to her to explain to Ikkaku that she had her ass saved by a schoolboy. She took a deep breath to keep from lobbing something at his stupid orange head.

"Did you get to it before me?" she asked, suddenly struck with a thought now that a moment's calm had allowed her to process the battle in her mind. Ichigo paused in his stride and turned, brow furrowed. "I ask because it was wounded when I found it."

Ichigo shook his head.

"No, I thought that was your handiwork."

"The arm was my doing, but the back wounds had been there from the start," she frowned slightly, thinking about the possibilities. "It was trailing slime everywhere."

"Huh." He walked back to her and, to her satisfaction, there was barely an inch between their heights. Now that he was closer, she could feel a steady stream of reiatsu flowing from him. It reminded her vaguely of her taichou, though not nearly so suffocating. "Did you feel another reiatsu in the area?" Kaede shook her head.

"No. Did you?" He gave a soft snort.

"Not really my speciality." He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, looking at the ground in thought, as if looking at anything else might distract him. After a second he looked up, pleased with his success. "But I know somebody who might have. School's out in five minutes, wait here!"

He turned and darted away at a run, heading back towards the main building. Alarmed at the speed with which he chose to depart, she shouted after him.

"I left my gigai in town! I have to go back for it!"

"Then meet me at the Urahara Shoten!" he shouted back over his shoulder. "Head east! If you get lost, ask where you can buy cheap candy!" And with that, he disappeared inside.

Sighing, Kaede moved all her limbs to make sure they were still there and functioning correctly, if a little painfully. Those possibly may have been the worst directions ever, but there was no time to think about it: the school bell was ringing.


End file.
